Against The Wind
by Morganabel
Summary: Leaves off where Run Away, Little Boy ends off. Tristan spends his last night in Hartford with an unlikely person...


Against The Wind  
  
Disclaimer: I own not Gilmore Girls nor do I own American Beauty.  
  
*  
  
The cool winter air of November hit Louise Grant as she walked down the Hartford street. As she pulled the parka closer to her, she silently cursed her parents for leaving immediately after her part in the play was done. It was at times like these Louise wished her parents were at least as good as the one Jane had in American Beauty. They, at least, had waited to speak to their daughter before bailing. Hell, even Lester had asked if they needed a ride home, despite what his motives were, he had asked. Her father wasn't as considerate. Paris had disappeared to talk to the Shakespeare teacher, so god knew how long that would take. Rory had left with her mother and some other people after the show. Madeline had disappeared with Carter Lewis nearly the moment the show ended. Not to mention the fact that Louise's own car was in the shop after that little incident at the mall parking lot a few days ago.  
  
Suddenly a small shiver went down her spine and she knew instinctively that it wasn't from the cold. Louise slowed down a bit, inadvertently allowing the wind to lift her skirt up slightly and chill her more. That's when she heard the footsteps from behind her. It was funny how when you spent all your life as a part of an elite upper crust society that you tended to forget about the rapers and the muggers in the city of Hartford.  
  
Taking a deep breath Louise stopped, took a deep breath, turned around promptly squeaked. "Tristan?"  
  
He closed up the rest of the space between them before answering her. "Louise. You look positively petrified."  
  
Louise forced a small smile as they began to walk again. "Sorry. I didn't expect anyone else to be out walking. I thought Gilmore said you were being shipped off to the Carolinas?"  
  
Tristan ignored her last question, stuffing his hands in his coat pocket and watching his feet move. "I snuck out. Had to walk or else it'd sound the alarm. You?"  
  
"I thought walking would help my complexion," Louise hedged, not wanting to admit to being abandoned.  
  
Tristan smirked, the kind of smirk that reminded Louise why so many girls had fallen for him so easily. "Ah yes, the blue of your lips do nicely compliment the wind burnt red of your cheeks."  
  
Her eyes widened as she rubbed her lips in a vain attempt to quickly warm them back to their normal color. "You're usually charming."  
  
He arched an eyebrow, an arrogant move she decided then and there. "You're usually coy."  
  
Louise looked at him through lowered lashes and pushed her lower lip out in a pout to discover her spirit just wasn't in the game that night. "I'm not in the mood." Cue the record books, she thought dryly, that must be the first truth I've told since hitting puberty. "Your excuse?"  
  
Tristan didn't even attempt charm, he just stated simply, "Not in the mood either."  
  
The two teens continued walking down the eerily deserted street in a somewhat uneasy silence.  
  
"Louise?" Tristan asked a few moments later. "Isn't that your house back on that street?"  
  
Louise looked over her shoulder to peer at the street name. "So it would appear."  
  
When Louise didn't make a move to turn around and finish walking the distance to her house, Tristan grabbed her hand, ignoring the icy feel of her flesh, and led her in a new direction.  
  
"Where are we going?" She asked. "Tristan?"  
  
"You'll see," was all he answered, thus putting an end to that stream of conversation.  
  
Intrigued, Louise obediently followed him through the historical district. She might not have fawned over Tristan or threw herself at him like some of the girls at Chilton but she was no Rory Gilmore, who seemed immune to his looks and charm. And now she was alone with him on his last night in Hartford. She couldn't exactly say she was disappointed with the night's turn of events.  
  
"Duck," Tristan ordered, breaking her out of musings.  
  
She did as she was told, ducking under the part of the gate that he held open. Once through, she waited for him to follow. Louise opened her mouth to question him but he silenced her by holding up one finger and then leading them to the south side of the building.  
  
Louise watched in amusement as Tristan crouched down in the snow and unlatched the low window. Then, without warning, disappeared down it. She looked at the window in confusion until his hands reappeared.  
  
"Come on, Grant, I'll help you down," He told her softly.  
  
She hesitated only a moment before wiggling her legs into the window and surrendering them to Tristan. Louise Grant was a woman of adventure, after all.  
  
Tristan waited until he had set her down on her feet before shrugging off his jacket and locking the window back up.  
  
He turned to Louise and smirked, "You're not wearing any underwear, you could've warned me."  
  
Louise, who had been in the middle of taking off her own jacket, stopped and winked, "Okay, I'm not wearing a bra either."  
  
His smirked widened into a full-fledged grin, "Wow, goes from unmotivated to coy all from a temperature change."  
  
Louise ignored him, looking around the large yet sparsely furnished room. "Where are we?"  
  
Tristan reached into a chest that he had been opening and pulled out a bottle of wine. "My grandfather's wine cellar. He's out of the country right now."  
  
"Ohh," She exclaimed, going to sit on the chest he had just taken the wine from. "You are brilliant, Tristan DuGrey, don't let anyone tell you different."  
  
Tristan chuckled slightly as he opened it up and offered her the bottle before sitting next to her. "So how was the play?"  
  
Louise finished swallowing before handing him the bottle. "It was…different. Paris was Romeo to Rory's Juliet."  
  
"Oh, I bet Paris loves me right now. Rory too." He wasn't drunk yet, but he could pretend to be. He needed to rant to someone before he left for the even colder life of military school.  
  
Louise snorted, the wine all ready getting to her. She wasn't exactly known for her hollow leg, and added to the fact that she hadn't eaten since before the last rehearsals earlier in the afternoon. "Paris always loves you. You can be the biggest prick on the planet, and I can bet she'll still want you."  
  
"Why?" Tristan asked with a shake of his head, handing the bottle over to Louise. "I'm selfish, spoiled and I really would prefer it if she would just stop liking me."  
  
"Why? It's kind of amusing actually," Louise told him, her brow furrowing in thought. "I mean there's intense studious Paris. And then there's jealous really pissed off Paris."  
  
Tristan groaned, leaning his head against the wall. "Because she doesn't deserve me. I'm so sick of being me. See, I don't even want me, and by d'fault no one else should want me either."  
  
Louise studied him through lowered lashed, "Impossible. You're looking pretty good from here." She pointed to a random direction in the room. "Bet you look good from over there too."  
  
"Paris expects too much," Tristan continued on, ignoring what Louise had said for the moment. "You know when I took her out that once she called my house five times in less than twenty-four hours. Five times! I don't think I've ever called a girl that much over the course of the dating period. Five times!"  
  
"Hmm." Louise muttered. "I don't think I've ever called a guy."  
  
Tristan looked at the bottle, hmmm how did they drink so much so fast? Shrugging, he took another sip of it.  
  
*  
  
Louise lied down on the cold floor with a groan. "I hate Hartford." And that, as an after thought, she added, "Like, a lot."  
  
Tristan looked down at her from the spot on the wall he had been staring at. "I would have thought you loved it."  
  
She lifted herself up on her elbows. "What's too love? We live in the same stupid places we were born in, we know the same stupid people we've always known. It's boring." Louise lowered her body back down. "We're going to end up as our parents, you know?"  
  
"I know," He said it so softly that it was barely audible.  
  
"Even Little Miss Perfect is going to be her mother," Louise sneered, or at least attempted to. She didn't need elaborate who had earned the title, Tristan already knew who it was. "She may not knock herself up at sixteen, well she can't now cause she's seventeen." A pause to get herself back on track. "But she's going to find something she loves, and do it. No matter what anyone else thinks, because she doesn't really care about society's opinions. Then she's going to raise the perfect children. Blech."  
  
"You sound like Paris," He commented, lying on the floor next to her, his head propped up on his hands.  
  
"Yes but I know how to be civil," Louise pointed out. "And I dislike her on principle. Not because I find her competition for anything."  
  
"I think that's why she hates all of us too," Tristan added. "You know she keeps saying she wants friends here. But she doesn't. She just wants her life to be made easier. She doesn't want to have to deal with Paris, but we all have to. We've done it longer than she has." He sighed. "She says she wants friends here, right? Yet all she does is sit with her headphones and books and if she gains a rival instead of a friend. You know what she does?"  
  
"Blames you?" Louise ventured.  
  
"Damn straight."  
  
"Lower class is a bitch."  
  
"I hate Hartford too."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"So why do I not want to leave?" He asked her. "Honestly, you'd think I'd be happy at the chance to just leave my parents."  
  
"It's not your choice," Louise sighed. "No rich kid likes having the decisions made for us. I mean all the major decisions were made before we care so now we can act like it's our own because it was what we were breed for."  
  
Tristan rolled onto his side and looked at her. "Are you always this deep when you're this far into your cups?"  
  
She shook her head. "Usually when I'm this far into my cups, I'm usually deep into something else. Or is it someone else is deep inside of me? Or is that a song?"  
  
"The last one's right," He offered. "And the second one I can only venture a guess."  
  
Louise yawned. "Wine makes me sleepy."  
  
He looked at his watch. "It's getting really late. Or really early."  
  
"Tristan?"  
  
"Louise?"  
  
"Chilton's really going to suck without you."  
  
Tristan smiled, and Louise would bet her entire inheritance that it was the first genuine smile she had ever seen grace Tristan DuGrey's face. "I'm glad someone thinks so."  
  
Louise guffawed. "Please, over two-thirds of the female population will be devastated for the rest of the year."  
  
He gave her a roguish grin. "And the other third?"  
  
"Scorned ex-girlfriends, of course."  
  
"And where would you fit in?"  
  
"Never was an ex-girlfriend nor did I ever feel scorned by you."  
  
"You were always too smart for me anyway," Tristan noted. "I don't have the best track record with smart girls."  
  
Louise giggled, "I must not be that smart then. I've always wanted to at least kiss you."  
  
"Invitation?"  
  
"Well you have to get a good bye kiss from someone," She pointed out, rolling onto her side to face him.  
  
Tristan cupped the side of her face. "Yes, I do." He agreed before bringing his lips to her.  
  
The kiss itself sobered Louise up a little, or at least awakened her a bit. She had kissed a lot of boys before but this one…well it made them seem even more meaningless and insignificant than she had believed. Of all the things she had believed about Tristan to be true, she never would have guessed that he would have given her the sweetest kiss of her life. She even whimpered in disappointment when he pulled away.  
  
They shared a shy smile. "Good bye Louise."  
  
And just like that, she was tired again. Her lips hadn't cooled from the contact with his, but the wine finally won out and over whelmed her. "Good bye Tristan."  
  
Tristan watched her fight sleep for a few seconds before she finally succumbed to it and began to snore softly. He sighed in regret, he should have realized sooner how much he'd miss Hartford before he screwed up so badly. 


End file.
